✔️ ILLICIT DESIRES | 18 +

Chapter 33

RITA

His scandalous Ways of wisdom Talk.

His friendly chat disclosed, I can't see an ounce of amiability in the picture's features. More like the steam of his ire. Just pure violence.

The printer spits out picture after picture, capturing moments of his friendly talk. I am lost for words as I hold a picture in my hand.

He imposed on him to suck on my bum accessory, like a pacifier. Then, he forced him to bite on my bum accessory with a wink toward the camera. Last, but not least, he coerced him to lick my bum accessory on the ground with his tongue fully out, like a cow.

"What are you going to do with those dishonorable pictures?" I ask with a mutter and a frown, internally grieving as my present is tarnished.

"Jeopardize his business, as no coherent, potential customer would step foot into the shop with those nasty pictures adorning the store window." He takes the pictures from my hands and walks to the store windows, decorating them.

"I mean, he deserves it, as what he has done is wrong, and I am not defending him at all, but what if he reports you to the police for violating him?" I ask, shifting in my spot.

"My name is notorious; I am known for my irresponsible conduct, and a subtle conviction won't bring me down, even if he decides to report me," he says, unaltered, cupping my face and pecking my lips. "Come on, let's take the picture and get out of here."

"You still think about the picture after everything that has happened?" I ask, confused, as he drags me to the seat and makes me sit down.

"We came here to take a picture, so we won't leave before taking one," he says with the camera in his hand. "Now, be a good muse for me and pose."

"Fine," I concede with a resigned sigh, planting myself into the chair. Then, he peers at me through the camera lens, the camera in his hands softly clicking as he captures my image.

"Done?" I inquire, arching a brow. He gives a curt nod, his focus already shifting to the camera screen as he reviews the freshly taken shots.

"You look beautiful," he mutters as he looks at my pictures, making my insides melt. It is ridiculous how I get all giddy for mere compliments.

"Thanks," I stammer, feeling hot. Thank Mother Nature his eyes are on the screen; otherwise, he would see how hard I am blushing now.

I look at him as he goes behind the counter to probably print out the pictures for the ID. I follow him. Like a paramour, I admire him as he works.

"You walk around like you own the place," I remark, standing by the printer, my gaze flickering between him and the machine.

"I own every place I step into, little flower," he replies smoothly, retrieving the pictures. His eyes flick over them briefly before lifting to meet mine, and our eyes clash. "You look gorgeous."

"Thank you," I tell him with a coy smile, looking down, glancing up only to see him peeking at the deep cut of my shirt, looking disturbed by the sight. "What?"

Words in Italian leave his lips as he walks back to get my coat before advancing with it back to me, looking like he's on a mission, as he helps me wear it. Then, he grabs the belt of the leather coat, tying it up at the front.

"Much better. After all, your breasts don't have to grace the whole mall," he remarks and grabs my hand, intertwining our fingers and heading for the exit.

"You gave me these clothes to wear, remember?" I ask him with a huff. It is ridiculous that he complains about my clothes when he is the one who gave them to me.